


Proof Positive

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Implied Brian Kinney/Michael Novotny (Queer as Folk), No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-06
Updated: 2005-10-06
Packaged: 2018-12-27 09:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12078426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Or, the Four Things that Never Happened when the Show Ended after 3.07





	Proof Positive

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

_Justin never interned at a rival company_

Justin got the letter about the internship requirement the same day the first of his address change got the mail sent to Daphne's. He read it over, blah blah three credits of practical experience in your chosen field. He started researching advertising agencies in Pittsburgh that night; after all, he'd learned from the best. He ignored Vanguard at the top of every list (and god, it was every list) and focused on number two, a firm on the river named Kirkpatrick and Associates.

Kirkpatrick was James Kirkpatrick, and Justin had to close his eyes when "call me Jamie" turned out to be Brian's fucking clone. He got the job anyway and started the next Monday. When Daphne asked why he hadn't gone to Vanguard ("after all, you and Brian are like. friends now or something"), Justin just smiled and made a rewind motion with his hand. She nodded understanding.

It was a month into the internship when K&A landed an account that Vanguard had let slip through its fingers. A shoe account, Justin thought the shoes were fucking ugly and told Brian so over lunch one Thursday.

Brian's head perked up. "What shoes are fucking ugly?"

"Camela? Cemelo? Something like that."

"Cervelo." Brian's coffee cup sat gently in the saucer, but the knuckles on the handle were white. "Kirkpatrick managed to land the fucking Cervelo account. How?"

Justin's smile was blinding. "They liked my boards."

Brian clamped his hand around Justin's wrist and dragged him from the booth and out onto Liberty.

"Kirkpatrick? Kinney, Vanguard. Your intern Taylor will not be in on Monday, or Tuesday, or for the rest of the term. He is now employed elsewhere." Brian slid the cel phone back into his pocket just as he pushed Justin out of the Jeep. He slid his fingers through blond strands and murmured against them, "Cervelo liked your boards, huh?"

"Yep, he thought the imagery was--"

 

_Justin and Ethan never got back together_

Ethan played his violin outside of Daphne's door for a week and a half, stopping once when the cops showed up to investigate a report of feline abuse and found only a fiddler, before Justin agreed to come back.

Justin started his internship at Vanguard two weeks later.

A week after that, Brian took Justin home to the loft after work, and that, as they say, was that.

 

_Brian and Michael never fucked_

"Go, Michael, fuck. Don't come home until you've got it out of your system because I am tired of this shit." Ben pushed Michael out of their apartment and closed the door in his face.

"But, Ben, I don't want to!" Michael called through the door.

A muffled "yes, Michael, you do" came from the other side, and then Michael could hear Ben walking away.

He found himself outside the loft door twenty minutes later with a bottle of Jack Daniels and the most perfect expression on his face. He lifted his hand to knock and brought it down again. Up, down again. The third time he raised his hand, the door flew open, and he knocked on Justin's nose.

"Michael!" Justin put his hand to his face and glared.

"Um, Justin. Are you on your way out? Is Brian here? What's going on?"

"Hi, yes, yes, and nothing. What's up with you? You and Brian have plans tonight? He didn't say anything, said he was working on the Ecklen Farm account all night. Um, come in." Justin waved Michael into the apartment and pulled the door to behind them. "Brian!" he called, "Michael's here! I'm leaving, I'm late for the movie, Daphne's going to kill me." Brian sauntered out of the bedroom and kissed Justin goodbye for the fifth time and sent him out with a slap to the ass.

"What's up, Mikey?"

Michael stared at the floor and mumbled.

"Was that English?"

Michael heaved his shoulders and stared Brian square in the eye. "Ben thinks we need to fuck."

Brian lifted an eyebrow and stuck his tongue in his cheek. His "really." was dry but not incredulous, and he followed it with "didn't we go through this last year?"

"Yeah, well."

Brian looked at his watch and said, "Justin will be home at one. Do you want to do this now?" He took the bottle from Michael's right hand, swigged approximately one-third of the fifth, and pushed him toward the bedroom.

Later, Michael thought that Ben was better, and told both Brian and Ben as much at breakfast the next morning.

Brian put a hand on the back of Justin's neck, and Justin grinned and stabbed his toast corner into the center of his egg yolk.

 

_Debbie never died (or, Brian never told Justin he loved him)_

The doctor said Debbie didn't suffer, that she was killed on impact, but that consoled no one. The cops said the driver would be charged with every law he'd broken and would spend at least twenty years in jail, upon which Michael swore he'd kill him the day he left prison. The officers turned a deaf ear to his threat, apologised for Mr. Novotny's loss, and left. Michael spat, "That's Novotny-Bruckner, and fuck you," to their backs. Then he collapsed.

The family arrived in twos and threes to the hospital, each face in a persistant state of shellshock, except for Brian, who picked Michael up off the ground, shoved him into Ben's arms, and pulled out his phone.

"Justin, you have to come to the hospital ... no, it's not Ben ... no, it's not Gus, fuck, Justin, just come to the ER." He stepped out of the 'sorry but your mom's dead' room into the hallway. "Listen, it's Debbie, she's ... no, Justin, she's not fine, she's ... listen to me, get in the fucking cab right the fuck now ... I love you."

On the other end of the virtual line, Justin burst into tears and knew.


End file.
